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The Journal of The'Galin | Afterword →
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| Entry 12 |
Alorin will be moved. Though I have changed my mind, the other governors disagree and insist on the move if there is any chance of a threat. In my mind, to move the academy is to betray its purpose. It was meant to be a place of learning for all people; to move it away would be to isolate it as a place in isolation. We have made a compromise. Alorin shall move to Vandar with those who seek its relocation. The others shall form a school here on Deren in the capital itself, close enough to protect with the full might of the kingdom should it be needed. This new academy shall be called simply the School of Thought. I can only hope this association holds firm, for I feel again as if I am dealing with the slippery eels of Inilar even now.
The king has passed and Draynor has been coronated as King. A noble Kruath'ri, but I still do not know if he is capable. He will be a kind leader, and generous, but he lacks his father's eye and treachery is all around. We can only hope that things go well.
For my own part, I have been studying agriculture even more closely since my experience in Tegril. I have come to the cold region of Ranfjord at the southern extremes of Deren and watched the farmers there. Uncreation is not a choice here; it happens as a part of the cycle. The cold destroys that which is not hearty enough to survive. The flames of Ranfjord are those of ice. Yet in spite of this harsh winter and a relatively mild summer, Ranfjord is a relatively lush place with life in abundance. How this came to be is an interesting thing.
Farmers out of necessity selected seeds that would survive the harsh extremes. At the end of the season, after crops were gathered for food, they put to the torch any but the most hearty and most corrupted of the remaining survivors. They selected for food not the best of the crop but rather the second best. The best was set to seed the next year. Always, however, they cataloged and kept some of the worst and most corrupt of the seed. This process had been repeated every season for some two thousand years, according to the people of Ranfjord. The result of this was that the hearty crops began to breed true. The seed that survived from one year to the next was the best of the year previous. Over time, corruption and impure seed would arise again, but the pragmatic farmers would merely cull this out when they saw the levels begin to threaten the livelihood of their crops. Such is the method of this place. A selective and continued guidance.
I wondered at first why they would keep the corrupt seed. The most weedy and least palatable.
It was eventually explained to me clearly. Not all beautiful seed breeds true. Corruption may lie dormant beneath the surface, undetectable for generations, and then when the right triggers come out it can unleash a famine in a short time. To prevent this, corrupt seed is used to detect corrupt seed. For in the presence of corruption, those inclined toward weak impurity will often show what their true colors are. They then shall burn the next year, except for a portion of the whole. For as long as there is selection, perfection can never be obtained. Perfection, however, is relative. For with each cycle, the seed of Ranfjord grows better suited. There has been no famine in this place for five hundred years.
Much can be learned from the farmer.
The'Galin, son of Galian
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